Seemingly Innocuous
by KivaEmber
Summary: Sequel to Tight Spot. Few hours later after his successful retreat from an overprotective Isshin, everything gets a little more complicated by a seemingly innocuous visit from Ichigo… UraIchi.


**Title: **Seemingly Innocuous

**Pairing: **UraIchi

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **Na, dwi'n ddim yn cael i'r rhaglen Bleach.

**Summary: **Sequel to **Tight Spot**. Few hours later after his successful retreat from an overprotective Isshin, everything gets a little more complicated by a seemingly innocuous visit from Ichigo… UraIchi.

**A/N: **Conjure Lass on LJ said that a sequel would be good, so I thought, why the heck not (though it was just for me to use it as an excuse to procrastinate XP ).

You must read **Tight Spot** for this to make some sense.

Gah, I feel so faithless by thinking more of UraIchi then HichiIchi! Forgive me Hichi! I'll come back…one day! Hopefully… (Pouts). UraIchi is just so hoooot, rivalling HichiIchi so I can't help it!

Anyway, whining out of the way, this one isn't as funny as **Tight Spot**. I used this little plot bunny a chance to work on my characterization some more and seeing how well I could develop the character's relationship into something more realistically. Of course with some smuttiness thrown in as well :D

Enjoy!

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"_Hey, you blame your mom for everything!"_

"_Yeah, but my mother is Satan."_

_-- Jake & Charlie, Two and a Half Men_

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**SEEMINGLY INNCOUOUS**

Whenever Jinta and Ururu went out to replenish Urahara Shoten's supplies if Tessai was unable to do it himself, they, like any other child, bought the most colourful and self-indulgent materials – or rather, Jinta did and Ururu was bullied into going along with the crimson haired youth's choices.

Unfortunately, that week, such shopping trip had occurred; and thus the only plasters Urahara could find were childish ones decorated with baseballs or flowers; though the merchant just sighed and bore with it, making a mental note to not go out in public for a while.

Not that he could go out in public anyway, lest his old friend ambushed him and proceeded to deliver the coup de grace.

Plus it was still raining.

"What a crazy day…" Urahara sighed, glancing at his hat that did not come out of the frantic fleeing from an irate and overprotective Isshin unscathed. He ignored the slight nicks and tears on the green striped material and left it on his bedroom dresser, sticking up another mental note beside the first to get Tessai to fix it later.

Right now, he had more important things to think of.

Urahara paused, halfway through the doorway into the hallway. More important then his hat? He ran a pale hand (a vivid 'Princess Peach' plaster covering a nasty scratch along the knuckles) through dishevelled and slightly damp tresses, a soft sigh escaping his lips. What he did a mere few hours ago was stupid and irresponsible and…and stupid.

Unbidden, the memory, still fresh and vivid, flashed across his mind with the soft taunting of how he _liked_ it, how he _liked_ the redhead's warm body squirming against him, how he _liked_ the raw gasps of pleasure and the teen's inexperience, a sweet mix of impulse and naïveté. Despite his common sense (that little elusive bastard had been awfully loud lately) telling him that he should put the incident out of mind and pretend it never happened, the blond couldn't stop but remember the heat and the emotions within those far too short but long minutes.

Urahara sharply shook his head, pushing himself past his doorway and down the hall. He couldn't dwell on it, Ichigo was off limits to begin with and right now, well, he now knows that whenever he feels suicidal, he could just step within five metres of the teen and immediately get cut down by Isshin – or castrated, neither which looked very inviting.

He was going to stay away from Ichigo until his old friend cooled off. So the next time he'd see the substitute Shinigami, the teen would probably be forty five. How delightful.

Moving silently past Ururu and Jinta's bedrooms, and cracking open a scuffed sliding door to the small kitchen, grey eyes glimpsed at the clock perched above the petite sink, the monotonous ticking unnaturally loud and occasionally drowned out by the ominous rumbling outside. It was pretty late, just past ten.

Stomach grumbling in hunger, the shopkeeper sighed again, rubbing at his eyes and swooping over to the fridge. He swore there was a small onigiri in there, if Jinta's grubby little hands hadn't swiped it up by now…

His search for the onigiri, however, was interrupted when a familiar reiatsu brushed against his senses, a familiar _fiery_ reiatsu that he was in the presence of a few hours ago. He froze in a comical position, half bent over with his eyes peering over the top of the fridge's open door and desperately trying to detect for a more concealed reiatsu with the other. After a few minutes, and no other hints of any other presences, the familiar reiatsu became uncomfortably close and Urahara decided that the onigiri would have to wait for now.

The walk to the front of his shop was shorter than usual, the blond having a sneaking suspicion that Karma had gone out of its way to make him as uncomfortable as possible in a twisted repentance for whatever evil deeds he had done in his past life (or this life, it's hard to keep track of his 'evil deeds'). He stared at the thin wooden panel that was the only thing separated him from his impromptu houseguest, unable to dreg up enough…courage to walk through the door and be done with it.

Admittedly, he was hoping that if he just stood there long enough, the houseguest would give up and go home.

He could feel the visitor's reiatsu pulse with so many conflicting emotions, emotions that eerily reflected his own and Urahara was once again reminded of the vulnerable look in bright, light brown eyes. Those same light brown eyes that smouldered with fiery determination, narrowed with resolve as the teen pushed past people's expectations of him and kept going with nothing more then his raw stubbornness.

Urahara sighed (he was doing that far too much lately), and slid open the door, weary grey eyes landing on the soaked frame of the current topic of his thoughts, sopping orange hair dripping water on the wooden floor and the teen's black haori clinging tightly to the lithe body.

The merchant wondered, briefly, why Ichigo was in his spiritual form. His mind came up with some theories – Hollow attack (which was unlikely as he sensed none in the vicinity recently and that the teen's Zanapktou was mysteriously missing) or to move to his destination without being detected. But that was immediately waved aside as it neither the time nor place. "Ah, Kurosaki-kun! This is a…unexpected surprise."

Ichigo nodded, swiping sopping orange bangs from his ochre eyes. "Yeah…there was a Hollow attack and, well…" He trailed off, the teen shifting awkwardly as he hugged himself, slim fingers rubbing the damp, coarse fabric in an effort to stay warm from the chill of the lingering icy rain.

Urahara didn't try to poke holes in the substitute Shinigami's story. "Do you want some tea while I get you a towel, Kurosaki-kun?" Urahara asked out of common courtesy, unable to stop his eyes from following the rivulets of water trailing over the curves of the redhead's body through the haori.

Ichigo seemed oblivious to the merchant's wandering eyes. "Uh, yeah. Thanks."

Urahara made a noncommittal noise, motioning for the teen to follow as he went back through the sliding door towards the kitchen that he vacated ten minutes prior. The sky rumbled outside as the pair walked down the silent hallway, Urahara able to feel Ichigo's presence just mere centimetres from his back; he ruthlessly crushed the fluttery feeling in his chest, telling himself that the teen was _off limits_. Hell, he shouldn't even _be_ here! "Here we are." The shopkeeper gestured to the small kitchen, half turning to the shivering redhead. "Any preferences?"

"Huh? Oh, no…" Ichigo shook his head, half lidded brown eyes locking onto mercurial grey. For a long, pregnant moment, neither of them moved; a harsh tension building up between the two as the redhead's brown eyes slid down from the blond's eyes, from the unshaven chin down the column of the older man's throat, lingering on a few scratches that weren't covered by the vibrant plasters. He could feel that familiar heaviness on his body, that same urge to just grab the merchant by his shoulders and…and…and _do_ whatever his instincts were screaming at him to do. "Urahara…" He whispered.

Ichigo could see that Urahara was struggling with himself, grey eyes for once not overshadowed by the brim of the green striped hat, the sharpness he had seen in them a few hours prior creeping along the edge of the irises. The blond's Adam apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, a shuddering breath drew in sharply. "Yes, Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo could barely breathe, the disorientating swirl of his thoughts chasing each other in a perpetual circle clogging his brain up from anything remotely coherent. The way Urahara had paused, the dim lighting cast across sandy tresses and reflecting from bright grey eyes, had suddenly become…alluring. Ichigo wasn't sure if it was hormones or what, but… "I…"

Urahara heard alarm bells screech in his head, telling him to '_ABORT! ABORT!_' But there was a craving in his body, an old stirring of his blood that he hadn't felt in _years_, (or maybe it was decades?) except even those past times weren't as intense as this thrumming of desire pulsing throughout his body. How could a simple kiss, an accidental kiss at that, completely throw his self control out of balance like this!?

Despite the panicked rush of reasons why not to do this cramming themselves into Urahara's brain, such as Isshin would truly _kill_ him, that this was paedophilia, that he was taking advantage of a hormonal teenager who really didn't know better, that this was…was…that this felt completely and utterly _wrong_; he didn't stop Ichigo take a cautious step forward, didn't stop Ichigo when his tanned hands rested on his bare shoulders, didn't stop Ichigo when the teen's slim fingers rubbed the smooth surface of a verdant plaster on his left shoulder and tilt his head back invitingly, smouldering brown eyes gazing heatedly at him.

"I want…" Ichigo murmured softly, splaying his fingers along the warm skin of the shopkeeper's shoulders.

"You want…?" Urahara prompted just as softly, mind buzzing in a dull murmur as he felt the redhead's breath ghost along his lips. The reasons why not to do it was viciously thrown out of the window and forgotten; after all, since when did he follow proper decorum?

Ichigo's eyes fell half shut, pressing his lips against Urahara's lightly with sudden shyness, muscles tense with anticipation as he pressed his soaked body flush against the shopkeeper's half naked form. He felt the blond shudder from the wet chill, but wrap a bare arm around the teen's waist anyway, drawing the redhead impossibly closer.

Ichigo couldn't hold back the moan as Urahara's tongue gently prised his mouth open, glazed eyes fluttering closed as he tightened his grip on broad shoulders. He felt so _good_ from these actions, the eager muscle exploring his mouth sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure throughout his system, heat jolting down his spine and collecting at the bottom of his stomach. A tanned hand shifted to fist blond strands as the teen clumsily kissed back with the inexperience of a teenager, though much smoother then his first.

Urahara grunted at the slim fingers digging into his scalp, pushing forward until Ichigo was pressed against the wall and pulled back a few inches for air. Half lidded grey eyes examined at the redhead's flushed features, brown eyes glazed with lust and slightly swollen lips parted, slicked with moisture. "You wanted that?" He panted breathlessly, leaning forwards again to nip at the teen's jaw line.

"Unn…yeah…" Ichigo groaned, tangling both hands into Urahara's hair and cradling the male's head as a teasing tongue swirled round the delicate shell of his ear. He felt humid, the previously cold dampness clinging to his lithe frame heating up along with his body. "God…" He whispered, the pleasure building to almost unbearable levels.

Urahara moved from the redhead's ear, moving back along the stubborn jaw line to the expectant mouth, pausing just a bare millimetre from the parted lips. "You need to get out of those clothes." He murmured; resting his forehead against Ichigo's, the warm moisture clinging to the vibrant orange strands dampening to his own hair. He meant it innocently, because Ichigo was completely soaked through and spiritual form or not, the teen could still get ill. But he guessed that with the situation they were in…Ichigo wasn't to blame for taking it the wrong way.

Ichigo felt his cheeks burn as the sentence ricocheted round his head, heartbeat quickening dramatically as the shopkeeper claimed his lips again for another breathtaking kiss. Take off his clothes? To do…more intimate stuff? Wasn't…_that_ supposed to be further down the line? Not hours after their first kiss? He couldn't say that the thought didn't fill him with excitement, but he didn't think he was _quite_ ready for that just yet! "U-Urahara." He gasped when they parted for air again. "I…uh…"

"Hm?" Urahara grunted, nosing the damp orange hair with an almost contented purr. Why were the forbidden things always the hardest to resist? And feel so good too?

"I don't think I'm…I'm ready for that…" Ichigo whispered huskily as he moved his tanned hands back onto broad shoulders, hazed brown eyes sliding to the side in an almost vulnerable expression.

Urahara paused, wondering where he crossed a line before relaying his last sentence through his mind. Mentally rolling his eyes at himself at his idiocy, the blond shopkeeper grasped the redhead's chin between his forefinger and thumb and gave a reassuring smile at the teen. "Ah, I didn't mean it like that, Kurosaki-kun." He soothed. A sudden mischievous thought sprang in his mind. "Though I guess you're not as innocent as you first appear to be to be thinking of sex, hmm?"

Ichigo scowled, twisting his head away from the familiar grin coiled round the merchant's lips. "Bastard. You totally ruined the mood now." He grumbled irritably, eyes narrowing at the amused chuckle by his ear.

"Oh well…" Urahara sighed. "So, how about I get you that tea and towel, Kurosaki-kun?" The blond asked, moving away from the tousled teen with a grin. He felt brimming with energy, the heat from their…activities leaving him with a cosy sense of contentment despite the glare he could feel boring into his back as he rummaged about the counter for a kettle. "Are you staying over?"

Ichigo huffed, glancing at the loudly ticking clock and wincing at the time. "I might as well…" He mumbled, the rain still pounding the window in a constant silver curtain. "Though, I'd have to be back home early to reclaim my body."

A plethora of innuendos and teasing jokes ran through the blond's mind, but he decided to cut his…what? Boyfriend? No, too early for that. Friends with benefits? Well, whatever the redhead was to him, he decided to cut him some slack. "I can get a room set up for you next to mine or Tessai's if you want." He said mildly, discovering the kettle near the bread bin (when'd it get there?) and went on a search for the tea. "Or…" He added with a hint of mischievousness. "You could room with me, Kurosaki-kun…"

He grunted when he felt Ichigo swat one of the many cuts on his shoulder where Isshin got lucky shots with the scalpels he was throwing. "Stupid pervert, just make some damn tea." There was a small pause. "And call me Ichigo…Kisuke."

Urahara laughed, feeling the final grip of guilt slip free from his mind. So what if Isshin might castrate him and/or mutilate him beyond recognition? So what if this counts as paedophilia? Urahara never listened to his common sense in his life, and doing forbidden things were just so much fun (which, in his opinion was the most important thing to do in life – have fun)! Plus, it was a chance to tease the redhead more.

"Are you sure, _Ich-i-go_? Don't you want to snuggle up against me to keep you warm? You must be cold in those wet clothes after all…"

"One more word, Kisuke, and I'm going home right now, storm or no storm!"

However it ended, it would be an interesting ride.

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**A/N: **Wooo. Okay, no more sequels, this was like…a two shot or something. XD

I was trying to see how well I could characterize the characters feelings on their relationship changing into something more intimate…and I hope I did it okay…

Right. Now I _really_ hafta do **Window Visit**'s sequel! And do my English…only six more days til my GCSEs! Graaaaaaah! (Runs around like a chicken)

Surprise Trivia! Because…well…because this is my 60th fanfiction!

The Welsh Alphabet: A B C (pronounced; 'k') Ch D Dd (pronounced; 'th') E F (pronounced; 'v') Ff (pronounced; 'f') G Ng H I J L Ll (pronounced; 'sh') M N O P Ph (pronounced; 'phur') R Rh (roll the 'r') S T Th U W (pronounced; 'oou') Y

Hope y'all enjoyed!


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